


Blame The Full Moon

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bottom Draco, Community: hp_creatures, Community: hp_humpdrabbles, Creature Fic, M/M, Mating, Some Plot, Werewolf Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry blames the full moon for his appetite of all things Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

****

Harry Potter characters are property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Maybe it was the full moon that brought it out of him, or maybe Harry just used that as an excuse. When it was over, he was just _so hungry_! Not just for food but for sex.  
  
In particular, sex with Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy claimed that he’d give Harry potions to calm his need, his urge to _kill_ when he’d turned but Harry was just so sure that it did something else to him. An urge that only Malfoy could fulfil.  
  
Harry would stumble to the cottage by the forest in the morning, his clothes half torn, his appetite ravenous! Malfoy would usually leave the door of the tiny hut unlocked. He’d also made sure to place charms around so no one else could find him and Harry was forced to use his sense of smell.  
  
Harry claimed he smelled the flowers around the cottage and that’s why he’d recognise the place, but he knew, he knew that it was Malfoy that he’d smell. The sweet smell that was a mixture of his cologne and just his own scent. Fuck, Malfoy smelled good and Harry wanted—needed—to get to him as fast as he could in the mornings.  
  
Harry opened the door and searched for Malfoy. _Still sleeping in his bed_. Harry went past the room supposedly assigned to him in search of Malfoy’s. He’d climb next to Malfoy in the bed and place his arm around the git that made him so fucking horny.  
  
Harry never made the first move. There were times when Malfoy would just get out of bed and go about his day and Harry would be left unsatisfied. He’d sleep it off and then take Malfoy in the kitchen, but there were mornings when Malfoy offered himself up like a treat to Harry.  
  
Those mornings were Harry’s favourite. Those mornings, Harry thanked for having bitten by a werewolf because when he was with Malfoy in his bed, he’d feel alive. More alive than anything else in the world.  
  
It was one of those mornings. Where Malfoy didn’t tease him—mornings. Where when Harry arrived in the bed, Malfoy was already naked—mornings. Harry took Malfoy from behind as they lay on their sides. And Harry didn’t waste much time with foreplay because he needed Malfoy and he needed him right that fucking minute.  
  
Malfoy leaned into him, his hips bucking, matching Harry’s thrusts as he whimpered under him.  
  
“Harder,” he’d whisper, and Harry had to will himself to not come right then and there. They fucked slow and hard as Harry wrapped his hand around Malfoy’s cock and tried to make them both come at the same time. It was bloody fantastic. The best shag Harry’d ever have. Better than any other partner he’d had before.  
  
They stayed quiet for a while after it was over. Harry silently refusing to part his arm away from Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy fidgeted to get out of bed. “I have to get your potion.”  
  
“No. Stay.”  
  
“You need your potion.”  
  
“Right now, all I need is you.”


	2. Chapter 2

"You need your potion, Potter," Malfoy insisted and squirmed his way out from Harry's arms. "I'll be right back." He dressed quickly. 

Harry sighed, but he didn't argue; it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Malfoy was Malfoy and he was a stubborn git. If Harry wasn't so tired, he'd have fought more. He groaned with frustration, turned on his back and stared at the roof. He was in Malfoy's bed, and he wasn't really sure why he still called it that. Any time he slept in the cottage, he slept in Malfoy's bed. 

Every month when he'd need Malfoy's help with the shift during the Full Moon, he'd come to this cottage. Malfoy had everything ready for him, all the potions, and the sustenance. Malfoy was the one that had offered his help to Harry. He needed experience in brewing potions as no Potion's Master would hire him, and Harry didn't trust anyone else with his secret. Why he trusted Malfoy was beyond him. 

Still, Harry had never been more thankful. 

In the beginning, Harry slept next to Malfoy because he hungered for human contact in the mornings. The potions Malfoy had given him refrained him from hurting humans, they were charmed so humans repelled Harry, but in the morning, he needed some sort of human contact or touch to survive. 

It had started with just sleeping next to Malfoy, feeling his body against his, and now, he didn't even remember who'd made the very first move. Harry craved Malfoy, and Malfoy never shied away from giving himself to Harry.

Harry was lost in his thoughts when Malfoy returned to the room carrying a phial. 

"What time did you get in last night?" Harry asked, turning to his side and taking the phial off Malfoy's hands. The first night of the Full Moon, Harry always arrived early and Malfoy only came after Harry left for his run. 

Malfoy shrugged and looked around the room. He looked everywhere but at Harry. "Around four o'clock this morning," he answered. 

"Malfoy, I'll make a deal with you," Harry said. 

Malfoy finally turned to look at Harry and scowled, as if he was expected Harry to threaten to bite him again. Harry had only joked about that one time and it was like he was never going to live it down.

Harry smirked and bit his lower lip, taking a long time to say what he had to Malfoy. "I'll drink this potion, if you will stay with me and take a nap." 

"I have work to do," Malfoy argued. 

"You were probably working since you arrived until dawn." He wasn’t even going to mention how Malfoy had also settled himself well and naked on the bed, waiting for Harry to show up. "Come on, Malfoy, I need— I'm not taking the potion otherwise. 

"I don't care if you don't drink the potion," Malfoy retorted, glowering at Harry. 

Harry knew that was a lie because Malfoy always made such a fuss about Harry drinking his potion. Harry raised an eyebrow as if he was challenging Malfoy back. "Well, if I don't drink it then you research—" 

"For heaven's sake, Potter!" Malfoy groaned and pushed Harry's shoulder. "Drink the bloody potion and move over."

Harry laughed and Malfoy's retort would have been more scornful if he also hadn't just yawned in midst of yelling at Harry. Harry gulped the contents of the phial and tossed it away, which earned him another scowl from Malfoy. 

Harry shifted over to make room for Malfoy in the small bed. "Wait. Take off your clothes first," he ordered.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy slid down on Harry’s cock with ease. The potion always made Harry a little needy for skin and he was really enjoying the fact that despite the fight Malfoy put out, he didn’t withhold himself from Harry too much. 

The fact that Malfoy willingly gave himself to Harry was a relief to him. Harry didn’t know what he would’ve done if he didn’t have someone for a sexual release, how he would have suffered, or worse, if he would have taken Malfoy without his consent. _That_ was something Harry did not want to think about. 

Malfoy swayed his hips as he arched his back and his eyes closed. Harry loved watching him like that. He loved just imagining that it was good for Malfoy, too, and that he _wanted_ this and not just to satisfy Harry for his animal needs. 

“Come here,” Harry said and pulled Malfoy toward him. Harry thrust up and Malfoy released a satisfying groan, almost collapsing on Harry’s chest, when Harry had caught him and kissed him. 

They didn’t kiss a lot. Not really. Especially since Malfoy was very strict about the rules of what they were to each other. But, once in a while, Harry would take charge and throw Malfoy’s rules out the window. Today was one of those days. After today, Harry wouldn’t see Malfoy again for a month; until the next full moon and Harry wanted to get as much as he could. 

Malfoy bit Harry’s lower lip. Hard. With a few more thrusts up, Harry was spilling himself inside Malfoy for the second time that morning and he kept his hold on Malfoy tight. When Malfoy let go of Harry’s shoulder to reach down to stroke his own cock, Harry stopped him. 

“No. Not like that,” Harry said. He helped Malfoy slide off him as he pulled out and then Harry sat up. Malfoy walked up to Harry and balanced himself on his knees as Harry took Malfoy’s cock in his mouth. 

Harry hadn’t sucked Malfoy off before so this was a new feeling for the both of them. Malfoy made the most enticing whimpers as he pulled out and pushed in of Harry’s mouth. “Fuck…Potter…” he groaned lowly. He started off slow but when Harry relaxed his throat and took Malfoy in completely, Malfoy started to fuck Harry’s mouth fervently. 

“Yes. Yes. _Yes_!” he was chanting, and tugged forcefully on Harry’s hair. Harry could take it. He could take anything that Malfoy would give him, and vice-versa. 

Then Malfoy was spilling himself inside Harry’s mouth and it was hot and foreign, but it was Malfoy and Harry could take that, too. 

Malfoy collapsed on Harry; his breathing laboured and uneven. “That was…we’ve never…” 

“I know,” Harry said. 

“That thing with your throat…” 

“I can _mend_ some things to my will. It comes from being able to shift,” Harry answered. Malfoy released another low moan and that sent another shot of pleasure to Harry’s groin.

“You always treat this as a chore, Malfoy,” Harry said after a few moments of silence. “Why don’t you let me show you how good I can make it for you?”

Malfoy’s hand reached down to Harry’s cock and started to stroke it gently. “I see that you’re ready to show me again,” he said. He didn’t move away from Harry at all, except for his hand that was _torturing_ Harry. 

Harry grabbed Malfoy by the waist and flipped them. Malfoy’s strokes were faster and Harry couldn’t believe that he was hard _again_ and that Malfoy was doing this to him once more. 

Harry growled and kissed Malfoy whose strokes became harsher and Harry felt a burning desire in the pit of his stomach. The feeling was overwhelming his senses and he felt dizzy, but in a good way. He felt like he was going to shift again, but he knew that wasn’t it. This feeling was something else. 

“Wait. Stop!” Harry said and Malfoy stopped immediately. Harry pulled away from him and left the room. If he hadn’t stopped, Harry wasn’t sure what he would have done. He locked himself in the bathroom and ran a cold shower. 

Half an hour later, Harry entered the kitchen of the cottage and found a fully dressed and stoic Malfoy waiting for him with his list of potions and instructions. He looked out the window and saw the Christmas wreath displayed there. It was funny how the cottage was under a disillusionment charm, yet Malfoy had still decorated it. 

“Malfoy…” 

“Don’t, Potter,” he said, as a warning. 

“I just have to—”

“Potter. I didn't wait here so you can give me whatever excuse you have. I just want to do my _duty_ and leave. I’ve made a list here and there are several different instructions for this month. I’d like you to alter your routine a bit and document any changes—”

“For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, shut up!” Harry shouted and watched Malfoy flinch. “I wanted to mark you, okay?” 

“Mark me?” 

“Yes. I felt this intense…I dunno…desire inside me and I could feel myself shift a bit. I wasn’t going to get into full werewolf mode but my jaw, my teeth…I wanted to mark you. As mine. My mate. So I had to stop.” 

“Oh,” Malfoy said, and Harry couldn’t place the tone of his voice. 

“Yeah. I mean…” Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair; it was still wet from the shower. “I know that what we do—it’s not exactly ideal for you—I mean you have a choice and you can so no. and you don’t, and I fear, that I don’t know, I might take you, anyway…I have nightmares about that…” 

“You think you’d take me if I didn’t—give myself to you?” Malfoy asked, he didn’t sound repulsed and Harry didn’t know what to make of _that_. 

“I hope not, but I have read about it. Werewolves who can’t control their sexual need after a shift can use _force_ and I didn’t want to do that. With you. And mating? I mean—we’re not even dating—” Harry felt stupid. He felt stupid that he still was a _new_ werewolf with little control, and especially stupid because it rhymed. _Mating. We’re not even dating_. 

Malfoy cleared his throat and adjusted his robes. “Right.”

“I know you’re seeing someone,” Harry said, dryly. 

“What?” Malfoy snapped. 

“I know about _him_. You’re seen in public, at pubs, and…I don’t know what kind of an arrangement you have…” 

“You’ve been following me, Potter?”

“I…” Harry didn’t know what to say. _Yes_ , was the short answer but he felt like he needed to explain. 

“We’re in an open relationship,” Malfoy said, and sighed. “It was the best way I could—continue my research. I can’t commit myself to someone when—we do what we do and he’s okay with that. He’s seeing other wizards and he doesn’t ask me any questions and I don’t ask him any questions. It’s simple.” 

“Unlike what we have,” Harry said. 

Malfoy laughed. He released an exasperated sigh and _actually_ laughed. “Yeah. This is a lot more complicated than that.” 

They were quiet for a while and Harry didn’t know what to say. He kept on staring out the window at the wreath, studying its intricate design. He was afraid to look at Malfoy, and reckoned that Malfoy was afraid to do the same. What would he say? They only saw each other two or three times a month and _that_ was more complicated than an ‘open relationship’ with this wizard? Harry wasn’t dating anyone. Being the Saviour was bad enough at first, then he gone and got himself bit while he was on a mission; his prospects were low. Or so he’d thought. Hermione had told him that he just didn’t want to even try. He didn’t, and he knew why. He just couldn’t get himself to admit that to himself, or Malfoy. 

“So I’ll be leaving then. I’ll see you later, Potter.” 

“Malfoy!” Harry said before Malfoy could Disapparate. 

“Yes, Potter?” 

“I can’t do open relationship,” Harry said. “I am an all or nothing kind of a man. I reckon that’s why I get in as much trouble as I do. So…erm…” 

“What’s your point, Potter?” 

“I want more than this. I want more than to be your research and you to be my fuck buddy for three days a month. Do you think that we could maybe try? To date, I mean? I suppose if you can give up your—give him up completely.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Malfoy said impassively. 

“Okay, good. That’s all I can ask,” Harry said. 

“I’ll see you at the next full moon, Potter,” Malfoy said and immediately Disapparated. 

_Shite_!


	4. Chapter 4

Malfoy was going to _think_ about dating Harry. 

Harry couldn't sleep. He couldn't possibly wait one whole month to see Malfoy again. To touch him, to kiss him, and hear from him whether or not he'd be willing to give up his open relationship with another wizard to _date_ Harry. 

Harry didn't like waiting. He supposed that's really what made him so obsessed with Malfoy in the first place. At that time, he knew that Malfoy was up to something, and now? Now Harry couldn't get how attractive Malfoy had grown up to be and how much of Harry's attention span was still directed towards him. 

He sometimes hated himself for wanting Malfoy as much as he did. Malfoy wasn't charming. Malfoy almost always was scowling at Harry, even when they were basking in post-coital bliss, Malfoy would sneer. 

But Harry knew that he had it bad. He wanted Malfoy, and there was no other way around it.

Part of Harry wanted to recruit his friends in this mission, but he knew that regardless of where their loyalty was situated, his friends wouldn't be so crazy about Harry chasing after Malfoy. Again. So he had to rely on himself to deal with this situation. 

Harry headed to the cafe he knew Malfoy often frequented for lunch. He wasn't _stalking_ or following Malfoy, he'd heard about the cafe, too and why couldn't he just be having lunch there? When he arrived at the place, however, he saw Malfoy sitting with _him_. Harry hadn't really got the other man's name, and he didn't really care, anyway. The man didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was no longer going to be Malfoy's boyfriend, or whatever people in open relationships call themselves. Malfoy was Harry's, and that was that. 

"Hello," Harry said casually as he walked up to the table with Malfoy and the other man and smiled. "How are you, Malfoy?" 

"Potter?" Malfoy jerked his chair back and abruptly stood up. "What are you doing here?" 

"I was just looking for a place to eat and then I saw you here..." Harry shrugged, still looking at Malfoy and completely ignoring the other man. "You know how I am when I get _really_ hungry." 

Malfoy's eyes widened, clearly he hadn't expected Harry to say something like that, and _clearly_ , he'd understood the meaning. Malfoy wasn't stupid. He'd always known how much Harry wanted him, at least especially after Harry'd become a werewolf, he probably didn't expect for Harry to be so bold about it though. 

"Would you like to join us?" the other man said. He stood up as well, and offered his hand in greeting. "I'm Marcus Oro. I'm friends with Draco." His smile was genuine and polite and Harry felt slightly guilty for crashing their lunch date. 

"Harry Potter." 

"Of course, I know who you are, Mr Potter," Oro said and gestured for the waiter to bring another chair to their table. The waiter quickly followed suit. "Please, sit." 

Oro sat down and he looked up at both Harry and Malfoy in confusion. "Is something the matter?" 

"No!" Harry and Malfoy said in unison. 

"Well, believe it or not, I seemed to have lost my appetite," Harry said. "Forgive me." Harry nodded at Oro and then walked away without a second glance at Malfoy. 

Why did Oro had to be so damned polite? If the man was an arsehole, then Harry could have put him in his place, but he can't be contemptible towards someone who seemed honest and good-natured. 

_He couldn't really be that good-natured if he was okay with sharing Malfoy with another man and had affairs with other men on the side_ , Harry tried to tell himself but dismissed the idea. 

He continued to walk away from the cafe with the realisation that guilt or not, he actually _was_ hungry. He'd hoped to catch Malfoy at lunch and share a meal with him. Show Malfoy that he was more than some sex-enthused monster, and that he could actually be a normal person. As normal as life allowed Harry Potter to be. 

As he was about to take a right turn to the closest Apparition point, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away from the contact and turned, his wand at the ready. It was Malfoy. 

"What?" Harry said with a start. 

"What the fuck is your problem, Potter," Malfoy snapped. 

"My problem? I fucking left you alone with your date, you git!" Harry took a step back from Malfoy and placed his wand back in his robes. 

"I just..." Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're such a fucking pain in the arse!"

"Well then--" 

Malfoy pushed Harry. "I was trying to end things with Marcus, you fucking brute!" 

Harry instinctively pushed Malfoy back. "Well, what am I supposed to do with that information? Sorry I interrupted your final date with the Italian Stallion! Sorry that I got in the way of your one last fuck!" 

Malfoy pushed Harry again and again until he had Harry backed up in a corner of the alleyway. "You're so fucking stupid!" he snarled. "I wasn't going to fuck him one last time. You're just...Merlin, Potter. You get off on being such a godforsaken prat?" 

"No, I get off thinking about your tight arse!" Harry retorted and before he knew it, he'd switched placed with Malfoy and had Malfoy pressed against the wall. His hand started to rub against Malfoy's groin and his head instinctively rested in-between the crook of Malfoy's neck, taking in his smell. "I can't even think without you," he confessed in a whisper. He didn't even know what he was saying, he just knew that he wanted Malfoy, and he could have taken him right then and there.

"Potter!" Malfoy's mouth was on Harry's neck, hot and wet and he was bucking his hips slowly, trying to grind against the front of Harry's trousers. "Take me..."

"The cottage," Harry said and Malfoy nodded. A moment later, after taking in a deep breath, Harry Apparated them. 

They never went to the cottage unless it was the full moon and the fact that they were there just for fucking was hotter than Harry had realised. They stumbled to the room, trying to take their clothes off on the way, and when the back of Malfoy's legs hit the bed, Harry kissed him deeply before flinging him on the mattress.

Regardless of how hot and fast they were going up until that point, Malfoy rode him slow. Painfully slow. He took his time rising and sinking of Harry's cock as Harry had grabbed him by his waist and all he was doing was watch. Malfoy's head was tilted back, his eyes shut, and he was biting his lip. He'd part his mouth slightly and release a whimper as he sank down, then he'd bit his lip again as he rose up. It was fucking beautiful. 

"Let me touch you, Malfoy," Harry begged and Malfoy shook his head. He'd told Harry that he wasn't allowed to do anything but lay there, and that's what Harry was doing. Except, not being able to touch him was driving Harry mad. 

"Please, baby," Harry said, "let me just rub my thumb over the leaking head, just once. Please Malfoy, I'm _dying_ here."

"Don't make me tie your hands to the headboard," Malfoy warned as he picked up the pace and his hips swayed rapidly. 

Harry smirked. "That won't hold me for long," he teased. 

"Not the point, Potter," Malfoy replied and he placed his hands on Harry's chest for support. "So _close_..." he whispered and Harry thrust up to match Malfoy's rhythm. They continued for a while, thrusting and swaying and hissing and fighting until Harry was coming inside Malfoy and Malfoy was spurting all over Harry's chest.

Harry was relatively speechless; had this been Malfoy's plan all along? He'd come without even a hand on him. Did he want to do that? Did he know that he _could_ do that? 

Malfoy collapsed on Harry's chest as Harry's limp cock slid out of Malfoy. "That's never happened to me before," Malfoy said. 

"What?" 

"Coming like that. Without even touching myself. I've felt like it could happen with you and I just really wanted to try it today."

Harry made a noncommittal grunting sound. "Was it good?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound pathetic. 

Malfoy hummed. He was still resting on Harry's chest and they were both soaked and sticky.

After a while, Harry grabbed his wand and spelled them both clean. He stood up off the bed and grabbed Malfoy's wrist. "Let's take a shower," he said.

Malfoy allowed Harry to drag him into the bathroom. 

As the hot water poured over them and rinsed away the stress from their day, Harry was getting turned on again. Malfoy's soapy hands all over his body, Malfoy's willingness and giving into Harry like that, was intoxicating. 

Harry took a hold of Malfoy's hand and twisted him around, pushing him into the shower all. "I'm going to take you again, Malfoy," he growled and Malfoy only pushed his arse back against Harry's groin. "And you're going to let me _touch_ you this time." 

"What if I don't?" Malfoy retorted. 

"Then perhaps, _I_ might tie your hands," Harry replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up and Malfoy isn't there. This concerns him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU: Remus+Sirius live. [Possible Remus/Sirius side pairing]

When Harry woke up in the cottage the next morning, he was alone. He'd had one of his hottest nights with Malfoy — he'd had one the hottest nights, ever — and Malfoy hadn't even stayed.

Sure, Malfoy had said that he was breaking up with Oro and Harry had assumed it meant that he and Malfoy were going to date now, but, this wasn't a good start. He was sore and groggy as he walked into the shower and ran the hot water.

Harry wished that he could have called upon Remus to help him but he and Sirius were off somewhere in Asia. The last two post cards were from Tokyo two months ago, then Seoul just last week. There was a way to contact them but it was supposed to be for 'emergencies only', and Harry didn't want to call upon them unless it _was_ an emergency. 

His dating life, or lack of, was _not_ an emergency.

It was also a good thing that he didn't have to work today. Harry didn't get normal days off like everyone else. There was no 'weekend' for him. He always got the two days before and two days after the full moon off, otherwise, he worked every day for the rest of the month. It was one of the perks of working with his best friend at the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

He just didn't understand why Malfoy had left. Why hadn't he left a note? Surely, he just went to work on his potions but it was just so _odd_. Should he investigate? Harry thought about what he should do. He couldn't just _show up_ at the manor. He had to stop just dropping in on Malfoy's day demanding to be seen or heard — but it was just so his style.

Laughing at himself and his newly found possessive side — must be the side effects of being a werewolf — Harry dismissed the idea. Instead, he went to see a florist that owed him a favour, this bloke named Robinson, and order a bouquet.

-

"What is it that you're trying to convey with your gesture?" Robinson asked him when Harry told him that he needed to place an order.

"I—uh—"

"Just say it. Trust me, there isn't something I haven't already heard," Robinson assured him with his soft tone. "No judgements." Funnily enough, that was the name of the flower shop.

"I don't like that you just left this morning without a word and I thought we were going to be more than just two people who shagged out of necessity," Harry blurted out.

It was clear that Robinson was trying to suppress a laugh or a snort so Harry just laughed for him. "Sorry, it's been a while and—"

"Perhaps _viola canadensis_ , these beautiful white flowers with hints of purple. Tell me, Mr Potter, is your...ahem... lover a scholar? What is their profession?"

"Calling him a scholar would be an understatement," Harry said immediately. "He's the smartest person I know, I mean besides my friend Hermione. He is well versed in potions, literature, occlumency... you name it."

"Ah!" Robinson said, looking delighted. "Then _he_ will surely know what the flowers signify."

"What do they signify?" Harry asked, nervous. He was glad that Robinson didn't linger on the fact that his lover was also a 'he'.

" _Let's take a chance on happiness_. The irregular shapes of the flowers show us that not everything is so straightforward and beauty isn't conventional. More, if he is a potioneer then he'll appreciate the fact that white violets are also an edible species. He'll be able to use them in potion making and perhaps even create a unique aphrodisiac mix." Robinson smirked knowingly at Harry who felt his face flush and his ears burning.

Harry agreed to purchase the flower and wrote Malfoy's name and on the card. Robinson promised to get them delivered straight away and wished Harry the best of luck. 

Before Harry left the flower shop, he turned to Robinson. "I don't have to remind you—"

"All my transactions are confidential, Mr Potter," Robinson said before Harry could find the words to make sure that his business wasn't going to be published in the next issue of the _Prophet_. "I appreciate your business and will not discuss it."

Harry thanked him and left the shop. Hopefully, he'd get to see Malfoy again before the next full moon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated this

The next postcard Harry received from Sirius and Remus was from Chiang Rai. Yeah, it was great that they were having a bloody fantastic holiday except he was over here, in England, being miserable.

Of course, Harry knew it wasn’t Sirius's fault. His godfather and his husband were on holiday and they were not responsible for a fully-grown adult, a werewolf, nonetheless—especially since Harry said he _could_ take care of himself.

He could. He could _totally_ take care of himself but he hadn’t expected to fall in bloody-goddamn hell-love with Draco _fucking_ Malfoy!

So, yeah. It’d been a few days, if not weeks, since Harry had sent those flowers to the manor, in hopes of getting Malfoy’s attention. Malfoy’d claimed he was going to break it off with his casual boyfriend, because Harry didn’t do casual, and he wanted to, well, do…Malfoy.

Their sex-life had been incredible. Sure, Harry had mostly been with Malfoy after he’d returned from a run, and he’d barely been human for a few minutes before he took Malfoy—but—the last time had been different.

It hadn’t been about the need from a werewolf, it’d been about a need from Harry. As a human. A human Malfoy had seemed to want. Harry had thought Malfoy understood that. Hadn’t he?

Still, since Malfoy hadn't contacted Harry, Harry didn't contact Malfoy. The last time he'd tried to show initiative, it nearly backfired. Nearly. Sure, after the fight, it'd been some incredible sex but that was not the life Harry wanted to lead. He didn't want the sex between him and Malfoy be only about the need. He wanted Malfoy to like him, as sad as that sounded. Okay, not sad, maybe a bit sentimental, still, sentimental was sad. He was a bloody werewolf for Merlin's sake!

To make up for the fact that he missed Malfoy, and didn't want to show it, Harry relied on himself for his release. Every night after he'd come home from work, he wished for Malfoy to be there. Missing Malfoy's mouth, his hard cock rubbing against him, Harry stroked his own erection until he came.

In the beginning, it'd been okay, but since Malfoy had been his—given himself to Harry so damn willingly—nothing else could compare.

When the next full moon arrived, Harry was at the cottage—the empty cottage—and went about his routine. He prepared a hearty meal for himself for when he'd return, just in case Malfoy wouldn't be there to cater to his _hunger_ , and tried not to think about it. His hunger. Not just sustenance for his body, but sustenance for his desire. His desire for all things Malfoy. He shed his clothes and showered before he was going to go out for the run. He was almost entirely positive Malfoy would be there when he'd return. It'd been like this for ages now, Malfoy had never missed an "appointment," still Harry gave himself a few seconds to worry. 

Bloody. Fucking. Malfoy.

The night was cool. Cooler than Harry ever remembered, and there was a sharp paranoid feeling that was just prickling. He felt an arrow go past him before he realised he was being hunted. Were they wizards? Or Muggles? Harry had no idea, but he knew they were after _him_. The cottage was sheltered under a spell Malfoy had cast, so there was no way for these hunters to find him if he went there. But, returning to the cottage in his werewolf form was dangerous for humans. If Malfoy was there, there was no way to guarantee Harry wouldn't hurt him.

Another arrow wooshed past him, and then he heard gunfire. Muggles, then. Muggles, most definitely. 

Harry jumped from left to right until he knew the darkness of the forest surrounded him and he climbed a tree. He howled as loud as he could, until all the wolves around heard him, and they howled back. They weren't his pack, but they knew when one of their own needed aid. They were there for him.

It wasn't long after when he felt the hunters retreat. They might have been stupid and daring, but they weren't careless. They knew real danger and ran away from it. Eventually, Harry felt it was safe to go back. Go back to the cottage and to Malfoy; he felt an odd feeling calling him back.

When he returned, it was nearly sunrise, and Harry transformed to his human self. He took one sniff and knew of Malfoy's presence in the cottage. Well, not abandoned him entirely then. That was a good thing.

Malfoy was sleeping on his side of the bed when Harry walked into the room. The room where he was supposedly, originally, to stay was still untouched. He had half a mind to go to that room. To ignore his impulse—his desire—to be with Malfoy. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't give up on something that'd had him riled up for all these months. Malfoy wasn't some lover that liked to toy with his feelings, he was also Harry's healer, his confidant, his counsellor.

Harry turned to leave, just to get a glass of water before he'd return to bed, when he heard Malfoy shuffle around on the bed.

"Harry?"

He must have been truly sleeping since Malfoy'd let his guard down and called him by his first name.

"Be right back," Harry said and went to the kitchen anyway. He didn't want water. What he wanted, was Malfoy.

On the kitchen counter was an almost empty bottle of Firewhisky and one glass. Had Malfoy been drinking before Harry got there? So his ease with Harry hadn't been due to being sleepy, but also drunk?

Harry knew if he went to bed with Malfoy now, there was no doubt they'd have sex. But he didn't want to have Malfoy like that. All those mornings when he and Malfoy had been together, could it have been possible Malfoy had been drinking severely? So Harry could fuck him and Malfoy could just...what? Put up with it?

If he weren't so weak, he'd have Apparated home, but that was exactly why this cottage was there. It was for him to rest and regain his strength. This month was one of those rare occurrences when the full moon didn't emerge just once a month, but for two days in a row.

He had one more night left where he wouldn't have control; he couldn't go home, no matter how much he wanted to.

In the end, Harry went into his own bedroom; the room that'd been left untouched forever. He pulled the covers over him and almost immediately fell asleep; missing Malfoy's body next to his. But he couldn't think about that now. He might have to worry about the Muggles that were out there hunting him tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

When Harry woke up a few hours later, there was a warm presence next to him. At first, he wasn't sure if he was in the right place. Hadn't he purposely slept in the room Malfoy wasn't in? 

He unwillingly shifted, trying to get comfortable again, and found Malfoy staring down at him. He was still shirtless, but had his parchment and quill in his hand. Harry gathered he was working in bed while Harry slept. It'd been an awful sleep; he'd only tossed and turned, but then he remembered feeling calm. Was that when Malfoy came in the bed? He didn't want to think too much about that right now. 

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "What are _you_ doing here?" 

"Uh...sleeping," Harry replied dryly. He knew what Malfoy meant; he wasn't going to play into this game. Not after the anguish Malfoy had put him in. "Where have you been all month?" he added, when Malfoy didn't reply. 

Might as well put all the cards on the table. Harry knew he wasn't crazy. Malfoy wanted him. Wanted him the way Harry wanted Malfoy. He'd broken up with that Italian bloke; after that, they'd fucked that day like never before. Harry could feel the pull inside him, the need for Malfoy; the want for Malfoy to be his mate. 

Malfoy being an expert in all things werewolf would have surely recognised it by now, and he would have done something to prevent it -- if Malfoy had not wanted the same thing. 

Harry didn't budge. He stayed there on the bed staring up at Malfoy. HIs gaze was still locked with Malfoy; he wasn't going to blink away. Not until he'd had an explanation. 

Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes. He picked up the parchment off his lap and placed it along with the quill on the table next to his side of the bed. "I had a feeling you were going to make this difficult." 

Harry scoffed. "Sorry I've been such an inconvenience," he growled out. He didn't sound like he was being sarcastic, or petty, or needy. He was full on angry-Harry-mode now. If Malfoy said something else to push him off the edge, there was no way he would be able to control himself. Maybe that was why he'd slept in the other bed. He didn't want to lash out at Malfoy. 

"Potter--" 

Harry glared at Malfoy shutting him up immediately. He hoped [ he could convey to Malfoy he wasn't in the mood for any games, his twisted way of talking, or putting up with anything that wasn't the simple truth. 

"I'm sorry," Malfoy said softly. He sounded genuine so Harry eased up slightly, but he didn't show. "I mean to get back to you. I...you have to understand, I'm not very good at...dating." 

"The flowers were too much?" Harry asked, turning to his side to face Malfoy when Malfoy slid down on the bed next to him. 

He wanted to reach out, pull Malfoy close, or wrap his leg around Malfoy's waist, but he remained still. Stiff so he wouldn't give away that his resolve was probably going to melt very soon. 

"No..." Malfoy said with a small smile. "They were perfect. I lov--liked them. It'd been a particularly harsh day and receiving your flowers was a comfort. And I _meant_ to write back to you. Even if I was occupied with other things, I had every intention of replying with a thank you but--my business has been hectic--to say the least-- and my father-- well, I don't want to talk about that right now." 

Malfoy reached out towards Harry, placing his hand on Harry's hip. He caressed the skin there lightly as if he doing it without even being conscious of it. 

"Oh, you need your potion," Malfoy said, taking his hand away from Harry's skin and turning towards the side-table again. "I also saw you didn't eat anything, even though--" 

"I wasn't hungry," Harry replied. He missed Malfoy's touch, and maybe his explanations were starting to make sense, but he wasn't ready to just forgive Malfoy yet. Not _just like that_. 

"Drink this, it's new--" 

"I don't want it," Harry replied, not moving his hand to grab the phial. 

Malfoy scowled at him. "It's for your bloody health," he said. 

Harry shrugged but didn't move a muscle so Malfoy threw the phial at him. "Fine, do whatever the fuck you want," he said, huffing out a breath. He turned to his back, crossed his arms on his chest, and stared at the ceiling. "I don't care if you can't control your urges to shift in the middle of the day." 

Harry sighed picking up the tiny vessel. He finished the drink in one go, it tasted sweeter than the ones he'd had before, but had an awful ginger aftertaste to it. Harry really hated the taste of ginger. He wouldn't have been surprised if Malfoy had purposely amped up the quantity just to annoy him. 

"Happy?" he asked and Malfoy scoffed. "Why are you cross with me? You're not the one that made fool of himself. Keeps making a fool of himself." 

When Malfoy didn't say anything for a while, Harry pushed Malfoy's leg with his foot. It was just an excuse to touch him, and he knew it, but he also couldn't help himself. "What's the matter with Lucius?" 

"Evidently, he's dying," Malfoy said in a monotone. 

"What?" Harry propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Malfoy. His face was impassive as ever, but Harry had learned to read his eyes. There was hurt there. "Can't you help him? You're a master brewer--you've helped me so--" 

"What you have isn't a natural life-threatening disease--" 

"Depends on the day, if you ask me," Harry said and Malfoy shook his head. 

"I can't help him. No one can. He simply has to wait...until it's time. We've had Healers in and out from all parts of the words, exhausted our funds finding a cure, but nothing seems to be working. I can give him something, have been giving him something, to ease the pain but that's all I can do. Meanwhile, he's running around in wizarding society trying to settle old scores and ensure my mother and I will be well taken care of. Apparently he doesn't think I can provide enough to take care of Mother on my own." Malfoy rolled to his side, his back facing Harry, and let out a deep breath. 

Fine, so Harry was still pissed off at Malfoy, but it didn't mean he couldn't comfort him. Malfoy had been there for him, through the roughest of the changes, and Harry could do this. Sure, they weren't friends exactly -- but Harry also didn't miss the fact that this was the most Malfoy had ever shared with Harry. Usually, he'd remained tight-lipped about everything that wasn't Harry's potions, Harry's diet...Harry's sex life. 

He edged himself closer and wrapped his arm around Malfoy's waist, pulling him against his chest. As his face settled in between Malfoy's neck and shoulder, Harry took in a deep breath. Malfoy's scent was intoxicating; he could also _feel_ Malfoy's arousal. His half hard cock pushed against Malfoy's arse at the thought that Malfoy was so turned on for him right now. Still, Harry kept himself in control. This wasn't about providing sexual comfort, taking Malfoy the way he wanted him; this was about comforting Malfoy as a friend. 

A naked friend he liked to fuck, loved to come inside in...and bloody hell, he hated being without. 

"I think you can take care of things just fine," Harry mumbled against Malfoy's skin, and he smiled at the way Malfoy shivered against him. "If there's anything I could do to help..." 

Malfoy grabbed Harry's wrist, bringing Harry's hand down to his cock. "Fuck, Potter. You could stop talking and..." Malfoy pushed back against Harry's groin, releasing a low moan. " _Just take me_..." he breathed out. 

Giving into the need was a lot easier than focusing on anything else at the moment. Harry's body vibrated with the moans that came out of Malfoy as he wrapped his hand around Malfoy's thick cock and tugged it. Malfoy pushed back again, the pre-come from Harry's cock making it slick so he could easily slide in and out of Malfoy's thighs. It wasn't what Malfoy had wanted, and this wasn't what they should have been doing instead of talking, but it felt right. 

Maybe when Harry wasn't so completely turned on, confused--they'd be able to communicate better. He nearly laughed at the thought--they never communicated...properly or otherwise. 

Harry gently bit down Malfoy's shoulder so he could stop his moans as he enjoyed the noises Malfoy was making. He didn't want to add on to the melody of those soft moans, he simply wanted to revel in them. 

His grip was tight around Malfoy, and his movements were harsh, and he could just _tell_ when Malfoy was going to come all over himself. His own was cock was satisfied in the friction it received, but Harry knew he wasn't going to be able to come like that. Not then. Not when he wanted so much more. 

As Malfoy spilled himself all over Harry's hand, he mumbled something Harry didn't understand right away. 

"Use it," Malfoy said, and Harry brought his hand around back, rubbing it against Malfoy's arse. 

"Want me to use your come to open you? Fuck you like that, Malfoy? Is that what you want?" Harry's voice was hoarse, he'd nearly growled every word, surprising himself at the _need_ in them. 

"Potter...Gods..." Malfoy groaned and he reached back to grab Harry's arse, urging Harry inside Malfoy. 

Harry slid in with ease. He licked at the bite marks he'd just left on Malfoy's shoulder and pounded into him. Malfoy didn't stop his moaning. There was something about them today Harry couldn't quite understand. Why did he sound different? Why did he _feel_ different? 

"Did you miss me, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his right hand wrapped around Malfoy's chest--keeping him close and tight, and his left hand held Malfoy hip. He was most certainly going to leave a bruise there. 

"You know I did. Can't you tell?" Malfoy said, his head resting on Harry's shoulder. "Don't you feel my desire for you? I haven't been with anyone since the last time. I touched myself every night...wanting you. Fucking myself on my fingers--" 

"Malfoy, you're going to make me..." Harry didn't know what he was saying, all he knew was he'd never felt this good. Not in a long time. 

It was different today, but at the same time, it really wasn't. It was always Malfoy. He'd always wanted Malfoy; Harry had taken him in any way he could get him. But to know now, to be _sure_ no matter the burdens of their daily lives, Malfoy craved to be with him, just as much as Harry _ached_ to be with Malfoy was something else. 

He didn't know how long he'd been fucking Malfoy, and he didn't care, but when Malfoy started to pump his own cock again, was when Harry lost it. He came with a cry, spilling himself inside Malfoy then biting down at his favourite spot on Malfoy's shoulder again. 

Malfoy continued to stroke himself so Harry decided to give him a hand. He breathed into Malfoy's ear, thinking of anything and everything he could to get him off. "I could suck you off, you know..." Malfoy groaned again. "Do that thing with my throat you like. Take you all the way in..." 

"Fuck, Harr..." Malfoy trailed off; Harry loved hearing his name like that from Malfoy. 

"Or maybe...you could fuck me. You'd like that, Malfoy?" Harry growled, realising he wasn't entirely displeased with the idea. "Want me on all fours so you could pound into me? Get your frustration out? Feel my tight hole clenching around you..." 

"You'd do that?" Malfoy asked; their hands were moving faster as if Harry's plan was working. He was getting Malfoy closer to the edge again. 

"I'd do it for you," Harry said, meaning the promise. "I've never let anyone before... but I'd let you fuck me. Split me open...do whatever you'd want, Malfoy." 

Harry was going to keep talking, say whatever people said when they are foolishly in love, and blurt out things in the heat of the moment. He would have said he'd do anything for Malfoy that he could be Malfoy's in a heartbeat; that he'd be Malfoy's forever, and all he'd have to do was ask. 

But, Malfoy arched his back, pushed his arse against Harry and came again. The only words heard in the room were pants of _yesses_ , and _oh merlins_. 

Harry was far too exhausted to mumble a cleansing charm glad Malfoy had done it for him. When he closed his eyes, he felt Malfoy shift as if he were getting out of bed. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, placing his hand on the warm spot where Malfoy had just been. 

"You need to eat something," Malfoy said, brushing Harry's hair off his face. "I'll be right back." 

"No..." Harry said, pulling on Malfoy's wrist, making him fall right on top of him. 

"For fuck's sake, Potter," Malfoy snapped. 

"Just stay here, Malfoy," Harry said, tightening his hold on Malfoy. "We'll eat something soon."


End file.
